And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom. Anais Nin

Sunday, November 1, 2009

Home can only be one place? Impossible.

Excerpts from my journal...

...It is undeniably true that my eyes are taking in the most beautiful vision they have ever seen as I sit on the slopes of Elgon in the backyard of my home this week. Never before have I been to the mountains (aside from flying or driving through) and I now understand why my mom misses them so much...

...I have felt at home this week--SO at home. And while my humanness questions why I am only here such a short time when I would love to see Peace, Joanna and Esther grow up, I am learning that questioning why I have the opportunity to encounter so many incredible people is somewhat ignorant...

...For the first time, I know I will miss Africa when I leave. And it will always be a piece of home for me. I don't know if I ever will be here long-term, but I am open again...

...My feet are cracked, my nose is blistered from the sun, my hands are growing calloused, my clothes are torn and I have scars on my legs. Oh, and I can't forget about the recurring stomach issues that are inevitable...but none of it bothers me. Last night Joanna touched my feet and was struck by the fact they are the same as hers, hard and cracked. It was a beautiful moment...

...Life is hard here. In the words of my brother Henry, "It is much like survival. While initially I negated this statement, it soon becomes reality when you really put yourself in their shoes (or lack thereof). But in the midst of that "survival" there is great depth; depth that even they don't see…

...today, home is right here in Kapchorwa...

...I pray this vision will forever be imprinted upon my mind. And yet I wonder as I look down the slope and see people endlessly working to simply live if they even know just how beautiful their home is. Dominated by nature, they are forced to comply...from an objective view, God is impossible to miss...

...Until a moment ago, I genuinely thought I could survive the African life. “Juliet!” called Lilian. Upon coming to the kitchen from which I heard her voice I was caught off-guard to see something green and sloshy all over the ground.“Ah, Lilian! You spilled the spinach!” I said to which she responded, “Yea!”The next moment revealed she clearly hadn’t understood me when she pointed to the ground with a bright smile saying, “Cow!”My disgusted face and “ah, Ah, AH!” simply made her laugh beyond control.I finally managed to say “Keiitabon!” (well done) and was thankful she didn’t make me join her. Perhaps one day I will be brave enough to immerse both hands and feet in cow dung for a greater cause, but today I will admit my defeat in not being an African woman...

…I slaughtered a chicken and I don’t know if I can ever eat meat again…I was literally praying the entire time…sounds ridiculous, but I’m the girl that cried when I hit a raccoon on the highway!!...

It is a remarkable thing to know you genuinely have family all over the globe. The number of people I address as Mama and Papa now surpass the numbers on my hands and I know at any given moment, home would be with any one of them. I’m continually learning what it means to be fully present in every moment; something so simple, but so so difficult.